It was just another night in the castle. All was quiet and the students slept without a care in the world, or so it seemed.

Occasionally the giggling adolescent couple were punished and sent back to the beds they should have been in, alone.

It was nights like these when sleep was evasive and the nightmares threatened to break the spirit that was already in tatters.

She knew these floors, these walls, this night. The castle made sounds and it was something she was used to by now. Her footsteps were quiet, even though there was no Mrs. Norris to fear.

Habit, she supposed.

After over a year of tip toeing around, one was bound to have light feet.

She hummed a distant tune that was stuck in her head for days now, quietly and almost too soft to hear.

And then she realised that it was not in her mind, the sound, and this was a corridor she hadn't seen before.

If it was before, she would have stiffened, disillusioned herself and worried what she had gotten herself into this time.

If it was before.

Now she didn't care. What more could happen to her? A bitter smile twisted her lips into something vaguely disturbing.

She did, of course, silence her feet, taking her shoes off. She'd left her wand under her pillow. She hadn't needed it often now.

Wincing slightly at the chill in her now stocking-clad feet, she walked toward the sound.

It was, she determined, a lone violin, playing out a happy tune with such sorrow, it seemed fit for the night, a haunting melody.

Canon in D.

If she was surprised at who was playing it, she didn't show it.

It was apt somehow. It suited him well.

Eyes closed, she sank to the floor in the alcove she chose to hide herself in. Why was she hiding? No answer came through, so she hid anyway.

The notes wafted to her, quiet and beautiful, bringing tears to her eyes. She had always loved this one. Her father used to listen to it on the CD player over and over again.

She had walked down the aisle to this music.

A happy memory it was. She replayed it in her mind now.

He had waited at the altar; blue eyes alight with pride and joy, mirroring her own. He had blushed a little, adding colour to his freckled face and so handsome he had been.

It had been the happiest day of her life.

A single tear escaped her eyes, at the thought, and she felt the warm liquid fall on her skin, in such contrast to the chilled air, making her shiver.

And suddenly she realised that it was too quiet. The music had stopped. Perhaps it was time to leave.

She rose, silent as the night itself, and was about to go when she looked up and froze.

There, he sat, violin resting by the stone, watching her through her reflection in the window panes.

There was no sneer on his face, no hate in his eyes and no blood staining his robes; and yet, he terrified her just the same.

"Are you going to hide there all night?" There was no malice in the question. It was just a simple question.

"No."

They said nothing for a minute. She realised that there were alone in the corridor. Literally.

"There are no other?"

"Not here," he said, "my one request granted."

She nodded. Strangely, she understood. The need to be alone was overwhelming most of the time. Wandering the castle at night would make it somehow almost like being alone.

She opened her mouth to say something when she realised this time, she was truly alone. He was gone.

Disappointed, she turned, put on her shoes, and walked back to her quarters. Dawn would be nigh in an hour and the castle would begin buzzing at first light.

Curiosity, however, brought her back to stand in front of the place he had sat, and her fingers traced the spot.

It would not serve her to be maudlin, she thought, and found her way back to her living room, where she could pretend to read till it was an hour respectable enough to ask for breakfast.

She sighed, picking up an old tome and lighting the fire.

Another day, another dawn.